The ideal, then, is the highest point of purity and perfection to which we can carry the idea of any object or quality. The natural differs from the ideal style, inasmuch as what anything is differs from what we wish and can conceive it to be. Many people would substitute the phrase, from what it ought to be, to express the latter part of the alternative, and would explain what a thing ought to be by that which is best. But for myself, I do not understand, or at least it does not appear to me, a self-evident proposition, either what a thing ought to be, or what it is best that it should be; it is only shifting the difficulty a remove farther, and begging the question a second time. I may know what is good; I can tell what is better: but that which is best is beyond me—it is a thing in the clouds. There is perhaps also a species of cant—the making up for a want of clearness of ideas by insinuating a pleasing moral inference—in the words purity and perfection used above; but I would be understood as meaning by purity nothing more than a freedom from alloy or any incongruous mixture in a given quality or character of an object, and by perfection completeness, or the extending that quality to all the parts and circumstances of an object, so that it shall be as nearly as possible of a piece. The imagination does not ordinarily bestow any pains on that which is mean and indifferent in itself, but having conceived an interest in any thing, and the passions being once excited, we endeavour to give them food and scope by making that which is beautiful still more beautiful, that which is striking still more grand, that which is hateful still more deformed, through the positive, comparative, and superlative degrees, till the mind can go no farther in this progression of fancy and passion without losing the original idea, or quitting its hold of nature, which is the ground on which it still rests with fluttering pinions. The ideal does not transform any object into something else, or neutralize its character, but, by removing what is irrelevant and supplying what was defective, makes it more itself than it was before. I have included above the Fauns and Satyrs, as well as the Heroes and Deities of antique art, or the perfection of deformity as well as of beauty and strength, but any one who pleases may draw the line, and leave out the exceptionable part; it will make no difference in the principle.
Venus is painted fair, with golden locks, but she must not be fair beyond the fairness of woman—for the beauty we desire is that of woman—nor must the hair be actually of the colour of gold, but only approaching to it, for then it would no longer look like hair, but like something else, and in striving to enhance the effect we should weaken it. Habit, as well as passion, knowledge as well as desire, is one part of the human mind; nor, in aiming at imaginary perfection, are we to confound the understood boundaries and distinct classes of things, or ‘to o’erstep the modesty of nature.’ We may rise the superstructure of fancy as high as we please; the basis is custom. We talk in words of an ivory skin, of golden tresses; but these are but figures of speech, and a poetical licence. Richardson acknowledges that Clarissa’s neck was not so white as the lace on it, whatever the poets might say if they had been called upon to describe it.
ROYAL ACADEMY
The choice of a President for this Society is one of some nicety. Where there is not any individual taking a decided and indisputable lead in art, it requires a combination and balance of qualities not always easily to be met with. The President of the great body of art in this country ought not merely to be eminent in his profession, but a man of gentlemanly manners, of good person, of respectable character, and standing well in the opinion of his brother artists. He should be a person free from peculiarity of temper, from party spirit, and able to represent the elegant arts (of which he stands at the head) as the last ostensible link connecting scientific pursuit with the enlightened taste and aristocratic refinements of their immediate patrons. The choice has fallen upon Mr. Shee, and his honours will sit well upon him. This artist has been long a favourite with the public in the most popular branch of his art, and is scarcely less distinguished by his occasional brilliant effusions as a poet and his accomplishments as a man. The characteristics of Mr. Shee’s style of portrait painting are vivacity of expression, facility of execution, and clearness of colouring. He has attempted history with some success. Perhaps if he had done more in this way, it might have been to his own detriment; and the habits and studies of the historical painter, immersed in a world of retirement and abstraction, are such as hardly serve for an introduction to situations of ornament and distinction in social life. Mr. Wilkie’s merits as a painter of familiar subjects have procured him the deserved honour of being appointed ‘historical painter to the King’—the admirable busts of Mr. Chantrey might also have been thrown into the opposite scale; but, upon the whole, the judgment of the public will not take the laurel from the head where the hands of the Academy have placed it. If we might hint a fault where so much praise is due, it would be by expressing a wish that Mr. Shee could more boldly say with Rembrandt, ‘Je suis peintre, non pas teinturier.’ His tones are too pure, approaching too nearly to virgin tints. For one department of his office the new President is happily qualified—we mean the delivery of lectures from the Chair of the Royal Academy. The art of painting is dumb but Mr. Shee can borrow the aid of a sister muse.
NOTES
PICTURE-GALLERIES IN ENGLAND
In 1824 a volume was published, entitled British Galleries of Art, ‘printed for G. & W. B. Whittaker, Ave-Maria-Lane,’ by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars, which is sometimes put forward by second-hand booksellers as by William Hazlitt. The articles composing the volume appeared in the New Monthly Magazine in 1823 (see vols. VII. and VIII.), and their subjects are in most cases identical with those in Hazlitt’s Picture-Galleries in England (Angerstein, Dulwich, the Marquis of Stafford’s Gallery, Windsor Castle, Hampton Court, Blenheim); apart from the internal evidence, however, which is overwhelming, the anonymous author says in his preface that ‘any merit that may attach to the mere plan of “British Galleries of Art” belongs entirely to the author of [the Picture-Galleries in England], the separate Papers of which appeared, (also in a periodical work) about the same time with those of the following which are on the same subjects.’
Hazlitt included his criticism on the pictures of Titian at the Marquis of Stafford’s and at Windsor Castle in the Appendix to ‘The Life of Titian: with anecdotes of the distinguished persons of his time. By James Northcote, Esq., R.A. In two volumes. London. Henry Colburn and Richard Bentley, 8, New Burlington Street, 1830.’ See Memoirs of William Hazlitt, vol. II. pp. 212–13, and also the Biographical Sketch by Hazlitt’s son, contributed to The Literary Remains of William Hazlitt, 1836, for particulars of Hazlitt’s share in Northcote’s work. This Appendix to Northcote’s Titian also contains ‘Character of Titian’s Portraits’ from The Plain Speaker and ‘An Enquiry whether the Fine Arts are promoted by Academies and Public Institutions.’
MR. ANGERSTEIN’S COLLECTION
From The London Magazine, December 1822.